Suspense!
Auto Light and its 96,000 dealers present Mr. Robert Taylor in Four Hours to Kill, a
suspense play produced and edited by William Spear.
Oh there, Mr. Wilcox, I am J. Hammock Macbeth of the Legitimate Theatre.
I've just been signed to announce a new show.
Relax.
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And now with four hours to kill and the performance of Mr. Robert Taylor, auto light
hopes once again to keep you in suspense.
So you want to know what's the matter, what's wrong with me?
Okay, sit down on that bench over there.
Make yourself comfortable because this takes a while to tell and I want to get it all
off my chest.
You know, now that it's over, I can look back and see everything in perspective.
Clear back to the days when my brother Walter and I were kids in Vermont.
And I can see now that my life's divided into two halves.
The first 34 years and the last four hours.
Yeah, four hours ago I was standing at the big front door of the Bachelors Club on my
way up to see Walter for the first time in five years.
I knew it was going to be tough, but things had changed since the last time we were
together.
Walter had arrived now.
He was the kind of New York lawyer who divides his time between the front page and the
society section.
I was just still a newspaper bum.
The competition between us was over and I was hoping that now with the numbers up on
the scoreboard for everyone to see, Walter might let down a little.
Decide he could afford to call off whatever it was that had set us at each other's
throats from the beginning.
Anyway, that's what I hoped.
As I said, I knew it would be tough.
Asking Walter for anything was always tough.
Well, I finally swallowed what pride I had left and walked into the lobby.
At the desk next to the stairway, the clerk was in the huddle with a bell ringing.
It's one of those clubs where you're supposed to put a call through the desk before
going upstairs.
I stood around waiting for a minute, then figured it might be better if Walter didn't
know I was coming, so I walked past them.
They didn't even see me.
The guy nails me.
I ain't that with all seven courses.
So I said to myself, okay, so the guy's got a load of martinis.
Well, you know, I'd call him for you, but his phone's tied up.
Well, I'll tell you one thing, Larry.
Starting tomorrow, someone else is going to take care of Walter.
So it was Walter with a load of martinis.
He should have stopped right there and turned around and walked out.
I'm not the exit queue, but I'm up here.
Well, nothing can change that now.
Anyway, I walked on up to the second floor and down the hall to 206.
Well, it's about time you got here.
Well, I...
Hello, Walter.
Theodore.
That's right.
Big Brother Theodore.
Well, come on in.
You're just in time for dinner.
The boy will be up in a minute.
No, no, thanks, Walter.
I haven't got too much time.
You mean you're turning down a free meal?
Look, let's forget that stuff, shall we?
We're grown up now.
There's no point...
Sure, sure.
Sit down.
No, I won't be too long.
Tell me, Ted, how are things on the paper in Buffalo?
Okay, I guess.
I quit yesterday.
Oh, you quit?
Yeah.
Not fired, you quit.
That's what I said.
So, now you're out of a job and you figure that I'll...
Wait a minute, Walter.
Let me tell you all of it.
There's a guy I met in the service, Dan Allenby.
He's down in Florida now, Fort Lauderdale.
Look, here's a letter I got from him.
He's buying a paper there, a little country sheet, eight pages, twice a week.
He wants me to go in with him.
It's nothing big, Walter, but it's the kind of thing I've been looking for for years.
We can do something down there.
The place is growing.
We can double the circulation in six months.
Dan's got all kinds of ideas and so have I.
He says that...
What's the matter?
Eh?
What's so funny?
You.
I don't get it.
All right, how much, Ted?
The price was 10,000. I'll need half of it.
5,000 bucks.
That's right.
Same song, 82nd verse.
I'm not begging, Walter.
What is it then?
I'm asking you for a loan. I'll sign a note.
Well, what about it?
What happened to your pride, Ted?
I thought we agreed to forget all...
I didn't agree to anything.
You not only lost what pride you had, you haven't even got any good sense.
Okay, Walter, that answers my question.
It's good for a laugh, though.
Big Brother Theodore crawling up on his belly.
Shut up, Walter.
5,000 bucks. You thought I'd just hand it over.
I said shut up.
Hey, let go of me.
I've had all of you I'm gonna take.
You hear that, Walter? I've had all...
Let go of me.
Okay, Walter.
Okay.
You've had that coming for a long time, Walter.
Yeah, you're right. I was stupid thinking you'd...
Now get up.
Come on, Walter, get up. I won't bother you anymore.
I...
Walter.
Walter!
I saw it when I turned him over.
A stream of blood oozing out of his right temple where he'd hit his head on the corner of the hearth.
No pulse.
No breath.
Walter was dead.
In a spot like that, you don't think. You move.
No one knew I was in New York.
I was sure the clerk and the bellboy hadn't seen me cross the lobby.
If I could get out without being spotted, I had a chance.
I picked up the letters from Allenby, went to the door and put my handkerchief over the knob.
Turned back to give the room a last look before I left.
That's when I saw it.
The telephone receiver was off the hook.
I remember I looked down at it like it was a poisonous snake or something.
Started to hang it up, then changed my mind.
Uh, hello?
Walter?
Yeah, yeah, this is Walter.
Really?
Sorry, I kept you waiting so long.
Wait a minute. Let's have an understanding right now.
When I want a good newspaper man, I'll call you.
When I want impersonations, I'll go see the floor show at Leon and Eddie's.
Why don't you call your brother and tell him I'm getting tired of holding this telephone.
Who, who will I say is calling?
He knows. I made that pretty clear just before you barged into his apartment.
What makes you think I barged in?
Just a guess. Am I warm?
Not very.
From this end, the dialogue sounded more like a Donnybrook than a pink tee.
Well, look, let's not go into...
Oh, don't apologize, Theodore.
Walter's a Class A heel. He had it coming.
Now, go pick him up off the floor or wherever you left him and bring him to the phone.
Well, he's out of the apartment right now. Why don't you just give me your name and number and I'll...
He already has it. I gave it to him a year ago in a moment of weakness.
Um, tell him I'll call him back in an hour or so when he's better into the talk.
Hold it, hold it a minute.
You're dinner, Mr. Pomeroy.
Uh, listen, Walter won't be back till late tonight.
You'd better call him at his office in the morning. You got that?
Yes, but he wants...
Mr. Pomeroy?
If I'd had any sense, I'd have given up right then with the bellboy pounding on the door,
with that girl on the phone who could send me to the chair with a word.
But as I said in a spot like that, you don't think something else takes over.
You wouldn't there, Mr. Pomeroy?
I had to get my hands on that girl.
I knew he'd have her number written down somewhere.
There was nothing on the telephone stand, nothing in the drawers,
but a couple of bridge score pads and some other junk.
I wiped the knobs of the handkerchief and turned back to Walter,
began searching his pockets.
The bellboy was raffling some keys outside when I found it,
a little brown leather-covered book with some names and numbers in it.
I jumped toward the door, slid behind it just as it opened.
Mr. Pomeroy, I knocked and I thought...
Holy cow!
Larry! Larry! Larry!
The minute he turned the corner, I took off to the back stairway.
The pack was beginning to howl up front when I left with the rear door,
still unseen, safe, except for that girl.
Auto Light is bringing you Mr. Robert Taylor in four hours to kill.
Tonight's production in radio's outstanding theatre of thrills, Suspense.
Be here, Wilkart. You must let me try again.
Okay, Hamhawk, you're on.
Something from Richard, perhaps. I was great as Richard III.
Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by...
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Is this a dagger which I can use to cut off the
radio and television? Is this a dagger which I see before me?
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And now Auto Light brings back to our Hollywood sound stage,
our star Robert Taylor in Four Hours to Kill.
A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
I started across town toward Fifth Avenue, walking slowly,
letting the cold night air work on my face.
By now, the call was into headquarters and a power car was on the way.
In a half hour, the homicide men would be there with the police photographers.
By nine, the story would be into the morning papers.
They'd be out around midnight. Walter was front page stuff.
And that girl who'd heard it all on the phone, she'd be able to read the headlines.
And once she added it up, I was through.
I had four hours to find her.
Then, somehow, somewhere, I knew I had to kill her.
I found a phone booth in a Fifth Avenue drug store and took out the memo book.
He'd scribbled first names and phone numbers on four or five pages.
The rest of it was blank. No addresses, nothing else to go on.
About a dozen of them belonged to women.
So I started on number one, Anna Lee at a Murray Hill number.
Hello?
Is this Murray Hill 4-1-1-2-1?
That's right.
Is Joanne there, please?
Joanne? I'm sorry, I don't know any Joanne. You must have the wrong number.
Are you sure?
I guess I'd better check it again. I'm sorry.
No, Louise, this isn't him. If you're that guy who's been calling, let me tell you right now...
You say you're making a survey?
Well, my little old head isn't much good at figures, but I'll surely be glad to help you all. I...
Hello?
Is this Maxine?
That's right. Who's this?
Didn't I talk to you a little while ago?
Who? Oh, don't tell me it's Cedar.
Megated, will you?
Oh, we're real friendly now.
Well, I hope so.
I see. And you make a habit of hanging up on people's faces.
We were cut off, Angel, and you were so snide about giving me your name, I couldn't call you back.
So you went out and bought yourself a crystal ball...
No, no. I just called up every girl in Walters' telephone index until you answered.
Why'd you do that?
Because I want to see if the girl is as nice as the voice.
How do you blush or default?
Look, why don't you save us both a lot of trouble by telling me where I can meet you?
I'd rather keep it this way.
I can be pretty persistent.
I can be pretty stubborn.
One Pomeroy is about all I can cope with at a time.
I'm awfully sorry, Theodore, but I have to...
Wait a minute. What's that music? The radio?
No, it's not the radio. And please don't bother me.
You're a nice boy, but I'm too busy writing out a play game.
Look, you've got to at least give me your last name, Maxine.
Not tonight, Theodore. Some other time.
But wait...
I'm sorry, pal. You forced me to do this.
Maxine, wait a minute.
I'm sorry.
Information.
Would you tell me if you have a party by the name of Thomas P. Sherman at Plaza 22376?
Thomas P. Sherman. S-H-E-R-M-A-N...
That's right. Plaza 22376.
One moment, please.
I looked at my watch.
It was 10 o'clock. I could close my eyes and see that hotel room now.
Jammed with the boys from the police, Pete.
Crowding around the medical examiner, grabbing for the phone,
shooting questions at the lieutenant in charge.
Hello, sir.
Yes?
We have no record of a Thomas P. Sherman at Plaza 22376.
Oh, well, who is listed at that number?
I'm sorry, sir. We do not give that information.
What about the address of the number?
I'm sorry, sir. We do not...
Look, I've got to have it, operator. It's very urgent.
One moment. I'll connect you with the supervisor.
No, no. No, skiv it.
I started to get panicky then.
Got a lot of wild ideas about running, grabbing the next plane for anywhere.
But I fought it down.
I'd been a reporter long enough to know what happens to guys who run.
I had to get that girl.
I had to.
Yeah?
You're through with the phone?
Yeah, yeah. Go ahead.
Oh, thanks, pal. I got to get a hold of the little woman, you know.
The more I explain to her now, the less I'll have to do when I do get home.
Boy, they're sure going all out in that Legion parade, ain't they?
Yeah, yeah.
Parade?
Excuse me.
Yeah, sure. What's the matter?
What was that you said about a parade?
Legion parade coming up Fifth Avenue.
Cross town traffic is tied up for two hours.
Coming by here?
Yeah, the band is down the street now.
Band? That's what I heard.
Huh?
Nothing. Thanks a lot.
Crowds were lining the curbs outside.
Down the avenue, somewhere around 78th Street,
I could hear the band at the head of the parade marching toward us.
The same band I'd heard over her telephone,
passing so close it almost covered her voice.
She was on a low floor next to the street.
And the band had passed her at exactly one minute to nine.
I remembered looking at my watch.
I stood there and waited for the band.
It was a wild idea, but I had a feeling if I figured it carefully,
I could come pretty close.
I walked a block with the band, then another one to make sure.
It took them a minute and 20 seconds to cover a block.
We hit 84th Street at 16 minutes and 20 seconds past nine.
They'd covered exactly 13 blocks since they passed her telephone.
That made it somewhere around 71st Street, on a ground floor.
An apartment, maybe a residential hotel facing Central Park.
I turned and started running back down Fifth Avenue.
I was getting close.
And there were still two hours before the morning papers hit the street.
In the next hour and a half, I checked Fifth Avenue for two blocks
on either side of 71st, going over name plates and apartment doorways.
There were two Maxines.
I talked to one on the house phone.
She must have been 70.
And met the other one face to face, a hatchet-faced character
who didn't appreciate being gotten out of bed by a drunk
who had the wrong apartment.
That left only one possibility,
a residential hotel in the middle of the block.
I decided I'd try calling her again.
Walked past the cigar stand in the lobby to her old phone booths at the rear.
It was 10 minutes to 11.
Time was running out.
Hello.
Hello, Maxine.
Here we go again.
What is it this time, Theodore?
Well, I'm still trying to wear you down.
Because you like my voice.
Right.
You think I'm charming.
Practically irresistible.
Right. And another thing.
What?
I think you live in the Grayson Arms on Fifth Avenue.
Wrong.
I live on the other side of town.
Wait now. Be honest with me, Angel.
Hold it a second, will you?
She was lying.
She knew what it was all about and was playing with me.
The panic came back.
I looked across the marble floor of the lobby toward the cigar stand.
A customer was standing there.
A girl had appeared behind the counter to wait on him.
Then he left and another guy came in.
My heart stopped.
It was the distributor with a bundle of morning papers.
Hi, Eddie.
Hiya.
Are you ready to fold?
Mm-hmm.
Leave them on the counter.
Okay.
Bye.
My mind was paralyzed.
It didn't sink in.
Not even when I saw the girl turn away and pick up the phone.
Now, let's see.
Where were we, Theodore?
You were stringing me along about living on the other side of town.
Listen, Maxine, you've got to...
Hello?
Teddy, you there?
Yeah, sorry.
Maxine, have you got the time?
Oh, just a second.
I saw the girl put down the phone, hold her watch up toward the light.
Five to 11.
When are you through work?
Right now.
Wait.
How'd you know I was working?
Stay put for a minute and I'll tell you.
Ted!
Ted, what do you mean, stay put a minute?
Hello.
I'll be right with you, sir.
Hang on, Ted.
Yes, sir.
Package of those, huh?
Yes, sir.
1825, thanks.
Anything else?
That's up to you.
Oh, now look...
Wait a minute.
I told you I was the persistent type.
What?
You're Ted!
Disappointed?
Not exactly.
How did you find me?
I was calling from the booth over there.
But how did you find this place?
My crystal ball.
You ought to get yourself a booth at the county fair.
You'd make a fortune.
It's only a sideline.
Do you really live across town?
Worst looking brownstone on 75th.
But it's home.
Good, then I can walk you home.
Well, they won't like this.
They won't mind.
Okay, Theodore, I'm whipped.
Let me lock up and get my things.
I'll be with you in a minute.
I waited while she shut things down,
threw a tweed coat over his shoulders,
put a blue felt hat with a feather in it on the back of her head.
Face matched the voice.
Dark hair, wide-set blue eyes with laugh wrinkles at the corners.
I wasn't thinking about that then.
I was thinking what a break it was she lived across town
on the other side of Central Park.
Ted?
Huh?
Mind if I mention something?
No, go ahead.
We're going the wrong way.
Main path across the park is down there.
Yeah, I know.
I just don't want to meet any cops.
The park's closed after nightfall, you know.
You don't mind?
No, I don't mind.
At the last minute, she grabbed a paper off the pile,
folded it and stuck it in her pocket without looking at it.
We turned into a dark byway.
She moved closer and took my arm.
The paper pressed against me like a hot branding iron in my side.
My heart was pounding now.
There was a choking lump in my throat.
I hardly dared to talk.
I...
I'm sorry I gave you such a bad time tonight, Ted.
Forget it.
I guess I thought you'd be different.
More like your brother.
Why are we stopping?
Why did you do it?
What do you mean?
You can let your hair down.
Walter can't hear us.
Why did I do what?
You mean you do this every night?
Huh?
Call up strange women,
tell them you've fallen in love with their voices.
Oh.
Well, let's not talk about that now.
I don't get it, Ted.
Look, I'll tell you later.
Never mind.
I just thought it was worth mentioning.
I guess I was wrong.
Night, Ted.
I can make it the rest of the way alone.
No, no, wait.
I mean it.
Let go of me.
Quiet, Maxina.
The cop will hear us.
I don't care.
Hey!
Anyone up there?
I held her tight, my lips hard against hers.
I heard the cop walk by on the main path 50 feet away.
There in that dark body.
I could have done it.
Ten seconds, maybe 20, and it would be over.
I'd be free.
But I discovered something else.
As I felt her respond, felt her arms tighten around me.
I said it before, back in that room with Walter's body at my feet.
I stopped thinking.
Something else took over.
I was like an animal, fighting for life, going on nerve and instinct.
But there in that black pathway in the park,
I began to think again like a human being.
And I knew that whatever it is that's born into a murderer
wasn't in me.
Love her or hate her,
I could no more murder this girl in cold blood than I could fly to the moon.
Well, here's the 8th Avenue entrance.
Yeah.
Why don't you tell me, Ted, something's tearing it to pieces.
I can see it.
Okay.
You've got a morning paper in your coat pocket.
Take a look at it.
Paper?
What's that got to do with...
Here, give it to me.
Page 1, I knew it.
Lawyer attacked in city apartment.
Walter.
Yeah.
You ask me, here it is.
New York, January 18th.
Bruised and bleeding after an attack by a mysterious visitor
into his rooms at the bachelor's club early last night.
Walter Pomeroy...
Wait a minute.
Go on.
Walter Pomeroy, noted criminal lawyer,
still refused to disclose the identity of his assailant.
Dr. James Penrose, attending physician,
said Pomeroy suffered a possible concussion
from a severe blow on the head,
but was otherwise progressing nicely
and would be released from city hospital in 24 hours.
The attack came at...
Good Lord.
Severe blow on the head.
Yeah, he fell.
Listen.
Listen, Maxine, this...
This doesn't tell at all. There's something else.
Then what is it?
What is the matter?
Okay.
So you want to know what's the matter?
What's wrong with me?
Okay, sit down on that bench there.
Make yourself comfortable, because this takes a while to tell.
And that's it. That's what's wrong.
I wanted you to know all of it, because...
Well, you're important to me now.
Maybe more important than anything else in the world.
You can check out if you want to.
It's nothing a cup of coffee won't cure.
I'm sorry.
It's nothing a cup of coffee won't cure.
Oh, Maxine.
There's an all-night stand around the corner.
I've got 20 cents.
The
Suspense presented by Auto Light.
Tonight's star, Robert Taylor.
Ah, Wilcox, shall we do another sterling performance?
I believe.
I believe we rate at least 10 curtain calls.
Ham-hawk, old boy, if you think we're good,
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Next Thursday for Suspense, William Powell will be our star.
The play is called The Escape of Lacey Abbott.
And it is, as we say, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
Tonight's Suspense play was produced and edited by William Spear
and directed by Norman MacDonald.
Music for Suspense is composed by Renee Garagank and Lucian Morawak
and conducted by Lud Bluskin.
Four Hours to Kill is an original radio play by Harold Swanson.
Robert Taylor will soon be seen with John Hodiac and Arlene Dahl
in the Metro Goldwood Mayor production Ambush.
In the coming weeks you will hear such stars as Ozzie and Harriet Nelson
and Rosalind Russell.
Don't forget next Thursday same time Auto Light will present Suspense
starring William Powell.
You can buy Auto Light resistor or regular spark plugs,
Auto Light staple batteries, Auto Light electrical parts
at your neighborhood Auto Light dealers.
Switch to Auto Light. Good night.
One million six hundred thousand men still wear the uniform
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